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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26654872">Hargreeves Family Values</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/YoungDumbandFullofHeadcanons/pseuds/YoungDumbandFullofHeadcanons'>YoungDumbandFullofHeadcanons</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Umbrella Academy (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Ben is alive, Camp Counselor AU, Five is there, Fuck Reginald Hargreeves, Multi, Pre-Canon, Summer Camp, Teen Angst, Teen Romance, camp movie references, no incest ships, so much yearning, teen tua, teen umbrella academy, the kids deserve better, vanya gets to go to</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 10:09:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>13,814</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26654872</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/YoungDumbandFullofHeadcanons/pseuds/YoungDumbandFullofHeadcanons</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When dear ol' Dad has to go on "business" for two months, the 16 year old superheros (+ Vanya) think they are getting sent to military training camp.</p><p>Instead they end up being counselors at a summer camp.</p><p>(it might just be the best summer ever)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ben Hargreeves/Jill, Diego Hargreeves/Lila Pitts, Klaus Hargreeves/David "Dave" Katz, Raymond Chestnut/Allison Hargreeves, Sissy Cooper/Vanya Hargreeves</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>121</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue: The Night Before</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>What Reggie doesn't know won't kill him...</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h3>Prologue: The Night Before </h3><p>When Reginald Hargreeves (the wonderful, nurturing caregiver he is) says that he will be out of the country on “classified business” for “several weeks”, his seven teenage super-children are elated to have the summer months to themselves. No training, no missions, no weird traumatizing punishments. It sounds like the best summer they’ve ever had.</p><p>And then Reginald tells them that they will be attending a military training camp during that time, and all the excitement drains out of them. </p><p>“Can’t have you all slacking off, it just won’t do. Even you Number 7, some team endurance training will do you some good.”</p><p>Reginald leaves that night without saying goodbye (like the great father he is) and the young Hargreeve’s siblings go to bed with heavy shoulders. So much for summer.</p><p>Their mother tucks them all in, as she has done every night for several years. All the kids would publicly insist that they are too old for it, but in the privacy of their own rooms they would never refuse some personal affection from their robot mother. Diego particularly is in a sulky mood, upset that he has to be away from her for so long.</p><p>“Aren’t you g-gonna be lonely without uh-us?” </p><p>“Sweetheart, I never get lonely.”</p><p>“Oh, r-right.”</p><p>But as Grace walks down the hall, her heels clicking on the marble floor, she considers her children’s moods. They all seemed quite downcast, but her sensors tell her that nothing physically was wrong. No injuries, normal temperatures, no hormone spikes… </p><p>“The children don’t seem very happy about going to camp,” she comments to Pogo as she sits at her charging station.</p><p>The sentient chimpanzee nods in agreement. He is organizing the finer details of the children’s summer, arranging for the car to pick them up and coordinating drop-off at the base, as well as making sure the facility is equipped to contain the teen superheroes. From the information he’s been given, this camp is closer to a prison field with an obstacle course. </p><p>“But I thought children loved summer camp,” Grace ponders wistfully, looking up at the paintings in the hall. </p><p>“This isn’t really a summer camp,” Pogo grumbles, feeling a twinge of guilt in his gut. </p><p>Grace sits in elegant silence for a moment, as if she is considering something. And then she turns to him with a soft smile and says, “But it could be.” </p><p>Pogo stalls in his planning, frozen by the uncanny familiarity of that look. <em> How could a machine be so much like her?  </em></p><p>And then he considers what she would want, <em> what she would do. </em></p><p>“...I suppose it could,” he says. </p><p>He then bids her goodnight, needing to go make some new arrangements.  </p><p>
  <em> “What Reggie doesn’t know won’t kill him,” Grace had said, voice quiet and mischievous as she let the young chimp have another piece of candy.  </em>
</p><p>The children deserve a real summer camp, he decides. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Day 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h3>Day 1</h3>
<p>
  <span>Five wonders, if he could time it perfectly, at what velocity he would have to reach to teleport out of the car and onto the highway without sustaining a major injury. Who is he kidding? Of course he could time it perfectly, with a margin of error smaller than a fraction of a millisecond. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So why doesn’t he? He thumps his head back against the ugly upholstery inside the van. Usually they ride around in a limousine, like the bunch of yuppy brats they are. But this morning at dawn, a nondescript van was waiting for them outside the academy, and now it’s crammed with cranky teenagers that are all </span>
  <em>
    <span>being too fucking loud.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Five considers jumping into traffic again. But what would he do after? He can’t really go back to the mansion, Pogo and Mom would just send him back. And there’s not much a pint-sized 16 year old could get away with in the middle of nowhere.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The driver doesn’t talk to them, they never do, so they are rolling down the highway into the countryside with no context for where this military training camp is. Their guardians offered no information either. This morning Mom just stuffed them full of waffles and scrambled eggs, and reminded them to wear sunscreen. And Pogo told them to just wear their training clothes instead of their uniforms. He seemed… suspiciously nervous. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luther and Diego are sitting in the front row of seats, arguing about some inane macho bullshit. In the next row Allison is trying to paint her nails, like they won’t be ruined in a few hours, and Klaus is kicking Luther’s seat while he waits for his own nails to dry. And squished into the backseat are Ben, trying to not get car sick, Vanya, still upset that she wasn’t allowed to bring her violin, and Five trapped between them.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They all don’t expect much out of this training camp. Honestly it would be very on brand for Dad to just drop them on a deserted island and wait until they go full </span>
  <em>
    <span>Lord of the Flies </span>
  </em>
  <span>on each other. So if this place turns out to be something more than a pit in the earth, they might be impressed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But what they absolutely don’t expect is when they take a turn into a evergreen forest and pull up onto the grounds of a summer camp. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Like, a real summer camp.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s even a sign.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Argyle Commission Summer Camp</b>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Well I’ll be damned, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Five thinks. He didn’t calculate the chances of this happening.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Um, excuse me Sir,” Luther says suddenly, leaning up toward the driver. “There’s been a mistake, we were supposed to be going to a training camp-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The rest of the siblings erupt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“L</span>
  <em>
    <span>uther shhhh!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shut up!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t blow this for us asshole!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Quit being a buzzkill!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Also someone throws a shoe at the back of his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But the driver doesn’t pay any mind to the ruckus, doesn’t even look over his shoulder as he passes an envelope to Luther and ushers the kids out of the van. The Hargreeves siblings are left standing there, under the archway of the entrance to the camp, each holding an overnight bag as the car speeds away from them. As it kicks up a cloud of dirt from the road, the teens turn to the envelope. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well open it stupid.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did we just get abandoned?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let me see that,” Five demands, pushing his way up to the front and snatching the letter from Luther. He really can’t take the stupidity any longer, he hasn’t had a cup of coffee all morning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey! I’m the leader-” Luther tries to grab the envelope back, but flinches when Five almost bites him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Five tears it open to find a short hand-written letter, in a wide, curvy style they all recognize as Pogo’s. Writing with monkey hands isn’t very easy.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dear Children,” Five begins to read aloud, while all his siblings look over his short shoulders. “After much consideration, your mother and I have decided to make alternative plans for you all. For the next eight weeks you will be counselors at this local summer camp. Apologies if these arrangements are not ideal, but this was a very last minute decision. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The head mistress of the camp has been made aware of your familial relationship, but is under contract to not disclose your identities or extraordinary abilities to anyone else. It would be in your best interest to keep these personal details to yourselves. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“On August 20th, the camp session will end and you all will return home late that evening. On the morning of August 21st, Master Hargreeves will return from his business venture. It would be in </span>
  <em>
    <span>all of our best interest </span>
  </em>
  <span>that you children don’t mention these arrangements, and carry on as if you had attended the training camp as planned. I will handle the finer details. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I hope in these few weeks you will all have the chance to socialize with your peers and bond as a family. There are not many years left in your childhood, and many past years have been spent honing your powers. I hope this experience is rewarding and fulfilling for all of you. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your humble guardian, Pogo.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What does that say there,” Allison asks, pointing at a small note written at the bottom, in curly pink ink.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s from Mom,” Diego confirms, trying to grab the letter now. “M-my Dar-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My Darlings,” Five interrupts, if Diego reads it they will be here all day. “I will be thinking of you everyday that you are gone. Make friends, have fun, and know that your mother loves you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ha, Diego’s crying,” Klaus teases.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am not!” he snaps back, but he does look a little misty eyed. This time when he grabs the letter, Five lets him have it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Guys we can’t stay here,” Luther says, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “Dad’s going to be mad.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Suck up,” Diego says. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who cares? Dad’s always mad,” Klaus whines, kicking up dirt in the road. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And Pogo’s going to cover for us,” Allison says, putting her hand on Luther’s arm. “C’mon Luther, we’ve never had a fun summer.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But nothing!” Five says, rage filling his tiny frame. “I’m not spending two months dealing with a bunch of brats, getting eaten alive by parasites, and listening to you idiots-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“HEY!” someone suddenly shouts through a megaphone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All the kids flinch and turn to see a woman standing down the path into the camp, a megaphone against her mouth and a big man standing beside her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“ARE YOU THE NEW RECRUITS?” She says, the horn shrieking whenever she presses the button. “CAUSE IF NOT, YOU’RE FUCKING TRESPASSING.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The siblings cringe at the loud screech that ends her sentence, and then look at each other. After a moment of silent debate, Allison cups her hands around her mouth and shouts back, “Um, YEAH, WE’RE SUPPOSED TO BE COUNSELORS-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“THEN GET YOUR ASSES OVER HERE, I DON’T HAVE ALL DAY!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So the kids half-jog but mostly walk further into the camp, the path leading to a sprawling campground, dotted with cabins and surrounded by tall fir trees. More paths lead out to other alcoves, one leading up into the near mountains, another to a small lake to the east, and so on. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the center is the biggest building, with a mess hall attached and a tall turret rising above the camp. And the lady with the megaphone is standing there, unimpressed by their slow hussle, while the man beside her waves. They both are wearing shirts with big red letters reading STAFF.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi there,” he says, in that awkward way adults try to talk to teens. “Welcome to Commission Camp.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The kids stand there, some mumbling greetings and some staying silent. If Five could shoot lasers out of his eyes, this place would be a pile of ash. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well-uh, I’m Hazel and this is Cha-Cha, and we’re happy to have you here with us.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cha-Cha doesn’t look very happy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Actually we had a couple counselors drop out, so you guys volunteering on such short-notice was a life saver. We almost had to cancel camp this year,” He says, trying to stay positive. He seems stressed. “You uh- you kids are the ones from the foster home, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The siblings look at each other, having a silent conversation with their eyes. Luther still seems ambivalent, and Five is still upset, but they don’t argue with the cover story. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Um- yeah,” Allison confirms. “We’re all foster siblings.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wonderful! Or- uh not wonderful that you’re foster kids, but good you’re here and-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“WE DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THIS,” Cha-Cha says through the megaphone, making everyone near jump.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay-okay, right, you guys need to meet Handler,” Hazel says, rubbing his ringing ears.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He welcomes the kids into the large building and up a set of stairs, directing them towards an office, saying “Just up there, and if you ever need anything you can come ask me or Cha-Cha.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“ONLY IF IT’S AN EMERGENCY.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know we’re supposed to share the megaphone,” he mumbles to his partner.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I DON’T CARE.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They stay in the main lobby while the kids go up into the turret, and into a dark, cluttered office that smells like cigarette smoke and old-lady perfume. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh just come right in, no need to knock or anything,” a voice says, curt and unamused. From the shadows of the room emerges a woman in a grey dress and an elaborate hat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well there wasn’t a door to knock on,” Five snarks back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm, I suppose I should have one installed.” she says, longing in her desk chair. “Please children, make yourself comfortable.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The seven siblings stay huddled in the center of the room, as there is no place to sit that isn’t covered in papers and boxes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You must be our new counselors,” she says, looking at them appraisingly. She seems to like what she sees. “I’m the head mistress, Ms. Handler. And I’ve heard </span>
  <em>
    <span>quite a lot</span>
  </em>
  <span> about you all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Which you’re not allowed to talk about,” Five says, crossing his arms definitely.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She smirks and stubs out her cigarette on the desk before saying, “Aren’t you a little young to be a counselor?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And the other six teens prepare for the tirade to start.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW I AM 16 YEARS OLD-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luther loops an arm around Five’s torso before he can lunge at her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He has a growth hormone imbalance-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s a glandular thing-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s our little fun-sized brother-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“THAT’S NOT HER BUSINESS YOU ASSHOLES!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anyway, I don’t have the patience for children to scream at me,” she says, rubbing her temples. “That’s what I have counselors for. Here are your assignments, you will all have an activity to supervise everyday for the campers, as well as a cabin group to watch over at night. There are 2 counselors assigned to each cabin of 10 campers, I’m sure you all can do the math.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She points to a stack of papers on the table, and when Luther picks them up, they are each labeled with a name. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You all missed orientation yesterday, and the tour, so you’ll have to catch up on your own time. Go find your cabin assignments and meet the other counselors before the campers arrive. Which will be in… oh about an hour.” and she waves them off with a flutter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait in an hour? We just got here-” Allison tries to say.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Exactly, so you should hurry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The kids clamor over Luther’s broad shoulders to grab their paper, threatening to send them all toppling down the stairs. But eventually everyone receives theirs and rush out of the room, and as they go through the lobby, Hazel distributes some T-shirts with CAMP COUNSELOR printed across the front. But one sibling is left behind without an assignment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Five knew that there were only six pages in that packet, missing the one meant for him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What about me?” he asks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Handler looks up in feigned surprise, saying “Oh how could I forget you. Five, is it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” he growls back at her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well we had an odd number of counselors this year, so you will have a different position.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How about I just go home and you can keep the rest of them?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She laughs with her teeth clenched.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh you are funny, but no. You will be an administrative assistant,” she says, pronouncing every syllable like Five is a toddler. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“To you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, there are so many </span>
  <em>
    <span>things </span>
  </em>
  <span>to do and not quite enough time in the day to get it all done. I need someone to be my “man-on-the-ground” so to speak.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Listen lady I’m not an errand boy-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That very much is what you are actually,” she says, and something about her tight lipped smile sends a chill down Five’s spine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He runs a few calculations in his head, cataloging every inch of the office and analyzing every subtle cue in her speech.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...You’re up to something,” he says, testing the waters.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She pauses, considering his suspicion, before saying “That contract I had to sign was very… </span>
  <em>
    <span>interesting.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Five chooses not to respond to that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now that we understand each other, there is a single room downstairs for you. Every morning you will report to me here for your tasks.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Five takes a wary step back as she dismisses him. As he descends the stairs, she calls “And thank you, Five. This is going to be a wonderful summer.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>We have to get out of here,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he thinks. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Cabin G</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No fucking way,” Diego says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We shouldn’t have come here in the first place,” Luther says, grinding his teeth. “This is what happens when we disobey dad.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They have the same cabin assignment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck Dad,” Diego says, making Luther get all huffy. “And fuck you ‘c-cause I’m not living with y-you for two months.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well then go trade with someone.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No! You go trade.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m the leader and I say-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re not the leader here-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then they are off and running towards their cabin, pushing and shoving to get there first and call dibs. They fall into each other through the doorway. Seeing a mostly bare room with five sets of child-size bunk beds along the walls, and one set of larger bunks for the counselors. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The fight over who gets the top bunk was even more vicious.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Worst summer ever, </span>
  </em>
  <span>they both think. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Cabin C</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Allison watches Luther and Diego shout at each other, considering stepping in and rumoring them to get along for the rest of camp. But she doesn’t, when she remembers that they are supposed to act like normal teens for the next few weeks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For the first time in her whole life, Allison is allowed to be normal.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So with a spring in her step, she leaves Luther and Diego to kill each other, because </span>
  <em>
    <span>it’s not her problem anymore. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She reads over her paper and walks towards one of the girl’s cabins, seeing a soft light coming from the small windows. The door swings open and she sees a teenage girl tucked into a bottom bunk reading a book.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi-” Allison says, making the other girl jump.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh- Oh sorry, I wasn’t-” the girl unfolds herself from the bunk, earmarking the page in her book. She’s a little frazzled, with frizzy hair and thick lens glasses, but cute in a mousy kind of way. “Hi, I’m Jill. Are you the other counselor?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Allison says, giving the room a once-over. There isn’t much to look at. “I’m Allison.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She has to remind herself not to say Hargreeves, not to say Number Three. No one here knows about that, and she means to keep it that way. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well- um. It’s nice to meet you,” Jill says, tugging at the edge of her too-big counselor shirt. “You can have the top bunk- if you want I mean. And I can show you around before all the kids get here-” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, totally,” Allison says gently, before her cabin mate keeps rambling nervously. “Lemme just set this down and change.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jill dips back into the lower bunk to give Allison some privacy as she slips into her T-shirt. She’s glad she packed some casual clothes to pair with it, and is super glad that they left their uniforms at home.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>No one knows you here, </span>
  </em>
  <span>she reminds herself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You can be normal.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Cabin D</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After juggling his duffle bag and trying to not get knocked over by his more </span>
  <em>
    <span>enthusiastic </span>
  </em>
  <span>siblings, Ben walks over to his assigned cabin. He heard that Luther and Diego got stuck together, and he does not envy them. As he opens the door, he looks forward to hanging out with a regular person- </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ben! Did you get this cabin too?” Klaus shouts, sitting in the center of the floor and rolling a joint.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Of course, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ben thinks. The monster in his stomach gurgles in agreement. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What- how did you do this already?” Ben gestures around the room, where Klaus has a bunch of skimpy clothes and makeup tossed all over the floor. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh,” Klaus notices his mess and then shrugs. “I was looking for my stash. I thought they were gonna bag check us, so I buried it in my underwear.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Ben shouldn’t be so surprised to see Klaus hold up a gallon-sized bag of weed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is wrong with you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Klaus sighs, “Do you want an itemized list or should I just start telling my life story?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whatever, I want the top bunk.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s fine, I’m more of a switch anyway.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wish we would’ve just stayed home,” Ben says with a huff, setting his heavy bag on the top bunk. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why are you being such a downer? This is awesome,” Klaus says, lighting up his joint. “Summer Camp is where everyone gets fucked up. Haven’t you seen the movies? American Pie, Troop Beverly Hills, Wet Hot American Summer, Sleepaway Camp, Friday the 13th-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Some of those are horror movies Klaus,” Ben drolls as Klaus names more movies. He starts unpacking the many books from his duffle bag.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The principle still stands, the camp part is fun,” he says, looking over Ben’s shoulder. “And please tell me you’re not going to spend all summer reading.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why shouldn’t I,” Ben says rhetorically, stacking up all the books he brought against the wall. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where’s your clothes and stuff anyway?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“In my backpack-” and then Ben freezes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His backpack isn’t on his back. It’s still in the van. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Holy shit, did you forget your clothes?” Klaus asks, and then cackles at Ben’s stunned silence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All Ben has for the next two months is the clothes on his back, a camp counselor T-shirt, and two dozen books. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can always borrow my stuff Ben-erino,” Klaus says, flinging a mesh crop top at him. “But you’ll have to bargain for toothbrush privileges.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I wish we stayed home, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ben thinks, clutching his </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tale of Two Cities</span>
  </em>
  <span> for comfort. </span>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Cabin J</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This whole day, Vanya has waited for the other shoe to drop. She’s never gone on a training trip with her siblings. Surely Dad will appear out of nowhere and say “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Not you Number Seven, you don’t belong with them</span>
  </em>
  <span>” and lock her in her room all summer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he doesn’t. And when she gets on the van, her siblings seem skeptical but don’t comment on her presence. She fades into the background like usual. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then they arrive at a summer camp, and Vanya thinks </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh, I must be dreaming. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nothing good ever happens to them, especially not to </span>
  <em>
    <span>her. </span>
  </em>
  <span>But this twisting and turning dream has her baffled, leaving her standing in front of a cabin door with no clue how she hasn’t woken up yet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She triple checks her cabin assignment, making sure she is in the right place. All of her siblings have dispersed around camp, leaving her stranded and alone. With much trepidation, she taps her knuckles on the cabin door, and hopes that she might wake up soon. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then the door swings open to reveal a teenage girl, with long blond hair and wide cheerful eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi! You’re my cabin partner right?” the girl says with a broad smile and a slight southern twang in her voice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Um y-yes?” Vanya says as her trembling hand gives a pitiful wave. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But the other girl just giggles and takes Vanya’s hand in her own. She shakes their hands together, her palm warm and calloused against Vanya’s limp grip.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m Sissy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vanya forgets how to speak for a moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sissy blinks and prompts her “...and you are?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Number seven-” Vanya mumbles absentmindedly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean Vanya!” she corrects herself, trying her best to smile and not freak out that Sissy is still holding her hand. “I’m Vanya.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Vanya,” Sissy says, like she likes the sound of it. “Good to meet you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sissy pulls her into the cabin, which is half decorated with homemade streamers and construction paper flowers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Here, set yourself down and tell me if this looks good here,” she says, holding up a paper wreath on the door. “I thought we could decorate a little bit before the girls get here, and then I got a little carried away.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vanya sits on the bottom bunk and nods dumbly, before Sissy gives her a pair of scissors and some paper to cut up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I hope I never wake up, </span>
  </em>
  <span>she thinks. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“EVERYBODY OUT HERE, FRONT AND CENTER,” a familiar megaphone shouts from the main building. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Hargreeves siblings congress with the other dozen or so camp counselors around a big fire pit in the center of camp. The noonday sun is beating down on the many teenagers, while Cha-Cha and Hazel are lucky to be standing in the shade. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fifteen, sixteen, sevent- Yep that’s everyone,” Hazel confirms. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“ALRIGHT LISTEN UP-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think they can hear without-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“ALL THE LITTLE BRATS ARE ABOUT TO GET HERE,” Cha-Cha continues through the megaphone. “YOU SHOULD HAVE A LIST OF YOUR CABIN GROUP. IF YOU DON’T, EVEN GOD CAN’T HELP YOU.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have extra copies of cabin groups inside.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“FIND YOUR GROUP OF CROTCH GOBLINS AND KEEP THEM ENTERTAINED UNTIL DINNER.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And if you need any help-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anything else Hazel had to say is drowned out when a bus pulls up and releases about a hundred 8-12 year-olds into the campground. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Cabin G</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luther and Diego round up a group of 12 year-old boys, all of them rowdy and not caring to listen to their counselors.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright kids, I’m Luther and I’m going to be in charge-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sh-shut up, I’m Diego an-nd we’re BOTH in charge-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why do you talk like that?” one of the kids says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You g-got a pr-problem with the w-way I talk?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“M-m-m-m-maybe,” the kid mocks, making some of the other boys laugh. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luther has to grab Diego before he goes to punch the kid. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can we go swimming in the lake?” another kid asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not now, we have to go to the cabin-” Luther says, trying to contain Diego’s rage under one arm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you going to do, stop us?” the kid says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then the group of preteen boys are running towards the water, not listening to Luther’s demands to stop. He considers letting Diego go after them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Cabin J</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright girls, c’mon everybody get in the circle,” Sissy says, getting all the little girls to sit together on the floor of the cabin. “You too Vanya, right there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vanya follows along, sitting in the circle with Sissy and their group of 8-year old girls. The kids are bouncing and giggly with excitement, but Sissy herds them so naturally. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, I know all y’all are excited, but first we need to get introduced to each other,” she says, a good mix of warmth and authority in her voice. “So we are gonna go around in the circle and say your name, where you’re from, and something cool about yourself.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vanya watches in awe. She’s barely said more than two words to the girls and Sissy already has them enamored. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So I’m Sissy, I’m from Dallas Texas but I’m visiting here for the summer, and I have a horse at home named Applejack,” Sissy says, and some of the little girls </span>
  <em>
    <span>oooh </span>
  </em>
  <span>at the mention of a horse.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vanya also wants to know more about the horse. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Vanya, you go next.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh no.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vanya stalls, nervously tapping her fingers against her knee. Sissy smiles at her encouragingly, and she is able to remember what words are.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m- um Vanya, and I’m from Argyle City, and-” </span>
  <em>
    <span>there’s nothing cool about her, </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Um- I uh, play the violin?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s awesome!” Sissy grins, making Vanya breathe a little easier. “Who’s up next?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Cabin C</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How do you get your hair so curly?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s just like that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why is your skin so smooth and pretty?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good genes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s your bra size?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright that’s enough personal question,” Allison huffs, but her group of 12 year old girls don’t take the hint. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jill gives her a sympathetic look from across the cabin. The girls are unpacking their stuff and keep hounding Allison with questions. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe we can all get to know each other-” Jill says softly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can you teach me how to do a winged eyeliner?” one girl (with very smudged eyeliner) says, holding up her makeup bag. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All the other girls hear that and grab their makeup, squealing excitedly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Allison gives Jill a shrug and agrees, deciding that this is better than chasing their kids around camp like Luther and Diego. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Jill, are you any good at nail polish?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m passable, what colors do you guys have?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Cabin D</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It turns out that their group of 10 year old boys are pretty good at entertaining themselves, once Ben and Klaus get them back into the cabin. One of the kids brought a set of  Beyblades and some others brought Pokemon cards, so they are all on the floor trading cards and playing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We got the nerd cabin,” Klaus mumbles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t be mean,” Ben says, trying to learn all the kids' names. If they would all just stop moving. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll be right back,” Klaus says, inching toward the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? Stay here,” Ben whispers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But then Klaus flashes the joint he has hidden in his palm, saying “Do you want me to smoke in front of the kids?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shhhhh,” Ben scolds him, luckily none of the boys seemed to have heard. “Okay but make it quick.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Take a chill-pill Ben,” Klaus laughs. “We’re on camp time now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ben just glares as Klaus abandons him to the mercy of a group of children. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s probably a bad idea to smoke a joint out in the open, and Klaus thinks that if he wanders out into the woods to get high, he might get lost. There could be bears, or lumberjack ghosts. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a shudder he decides to find a closer hiding spot. He climbs up onto the roof of the cabin, thinking that if he sits toward the back porch, he should be out of the sightline for anyone on the ground. The slats of the roof are a little slippery, but he’s found worse places to smoke before, and he has such a lovely view of the forest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He lights up and immediately relaxes when he takes a hit. As excited as he was to be a real summer camp (and away from home), all the people and screaming kids and the new place are a little overwhelming. He just hopes that ghosts don’t hang around kids much, and takes another long drag off his joint. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The high settles on his chest like a cozy sweater. Or a big glob of marshmallow fluff. Damn, he could go for some waffles right now. When was dinner? What time is it? Ben’s probably waiting for him inside. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Klaus isn’t in any rush, stubbing out the nub of the joint on the roof and wishing he brought another one. He plays with his lighter for a bit, thinking about if the whole forest went up in blazes. That’d be kinda cool, for a while, but the trees are </span>
  <em>
    <span>so pretty,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and like, make oxygen or something. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a noise down below, someone walking along the edge of camp behind the cabins. They’re carrying something heavy, or a couple somethings it sounds like. Klaus peaks down over the edge of the roof curiously.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he forgets that gravity exists, and tilts way too far forward until he is tumbling off the roof and onto the hard dirt path.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“MotherFUCKER-” Klaus groans, his hip and shoulder taking the bulk of the fall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh God, are you okay!?” Suddenly there is someone beside him, and a pile of water buoys and nets abandoned on the ground.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Klaus looks up, through the spotty bits of his vision from the high and the pain, to see a teenage boy kneeling beside him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A teenage boy with dark blond curls and broad shoulders and the brightest blue eyes Klaus has ever seen and </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh god he looks like an angel.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>And that angel is saying something, something Klaus should be listening to instead of just watching his mouth move. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, can you hear me?” the guy asks, gently trying to check Klaus over for damage. “Did you hit your head?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Um- no. I don’t thinks so,” Klaus mumbles, slurring in a way that doesn’t inspire confidence. As he sits up his shoulder aches. “Aw, shiiit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Here, slow down,” the guy guides him up with a steady hand on his back. Asking where it hurts and if he can move certain ways. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Klaus follows along easily, still kind of too high and dumbstruck as this very hot boy checks his shoulder joint. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think you’ll be okay, just with a couple big bruises,” the guy says with a relieved smile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh fuck he’s so fucking cute oh fuck-</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What were you doing up there anyway?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Damn it Klaus, make words happen, don’t blow this-</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh ya’know, adjusting the antenna,” he says. “The picture’s alright, but we can’t get skin-a-max on.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Cue the rimshot, ba-dum-hiss.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The cute guy looks confused and says “Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh damn it, try and save it. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No- I’m okay. I was just getting some air,” Klaus rushes to say, flashing his best </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m totally not high</span>
  </em>
  <span> smile. “Just ya’know, taking a break from the ankle-biters.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>On cue, there is a loud scuffle heard in the cabin and Klaus can hear Ben’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>angry </span>
  </em>
  <span>voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah,” the guy says. “The first day’s always really crazy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then he stands and, like a gentleman, holds out a hand to help Klaus up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Klaus takes it, hoping his own hand isn’t super sweaty, and when he stands he has to lean off of his bruised hip. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m Dave,” he says with a grin, still holding Klaus’ hand and making sure he’s steady on his feet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Klaus,” he says after a moment, kind of dazzled by that smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>God he’s so high right now.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I have all the first-aid stuff, so if you need anything come find me. Okay?” Dave says, and adds with a chuckle, “And be careful on the roof.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” Klaus nods, biting his lip idly. It doesn’t seem like Dave is laughing at him, especially when he squeezes Klaus’ hand like that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Only when Klaus agrees does Dave let go of his hand, lingering a second too long before gathering up his pile of buoys and nets. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“See you around Klaus,” He says with a smile, unable to wave with his arms full as he walks away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, see you,” Klaus says wistfully, not realizing that he’s just watching Dave go like a creeper. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s only then that he realizes that Dave’s T-shirt says LIFEGUARD.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As the noise of way too many kids spreads across the campground, Five barricades himself in the tiny spare room. He has some calculations to run. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i guess this is gonna be in like, disconnected vignettes with too much dialogue.<br/>((writing for 7 main characters is hard yall))</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Day 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h3>Day 2</h3><p>Five didn’t expect to stay up all night scribbling probabilities in his notebook, but all too soon the light of dawn creeps in through the small window above his bed. Pen ink has smeared all the way up to his wrists, and discarded pages litter the meager floor space. This room is basically a storage closet, with a rickety daybed taking up one whole wall and the door butting up against the edge. </p><p>Other people are staying in the main building as well, some other teen across the hall from Five, and Hazel and Cha-Cha at the other end. He heard footsteps upstairs late last night, more than one pair, so Ms. Handler must be up there with someone else. </p><p>Well, if the sun is coming up, Five might as well start the day. Sleeping now would be a futile effort. He has already memorized the camp’s daily schedule, so he knows that the mess hall should be opening soon. He’d kill for some coffee right now.</p><p>…</p><p>“What do you mean NO COFFEE?!” </p><p>6 a.m. is probably too early to be yelling, but Five can’t find it in him to care. </p><p>The poor cook, an older lady with a 50’s updo and a name tag that says <em> Agnes </em>, cringes as Five’s voice echoes in the empty mess hall. It’s so early that she has just put out a tray of donuts and cartons of orange juice and milk near a stack of disposable cups. </p><p>“Well I’m sorry hun, but aren’t you a bit young for coffee-”</p><p>“EXCUSE ME, do you know who I am-!”</p><p>“Now listen here young man, I don’t care diddly-squat about who you are, but I will not be spoken like that,” Agnes wouldn’t usually raise her voice like this, especially to a child. But there is a griddle full of pancakes in the back that need to be flipped so she doesn’t have time to let this little tyrant blow a gasket. Maybe she should’ve stayed at the donut shop in the city this summer. “I’ll have you know that the only coffee maker on camp is up in Ms. Handler’s office and I will not-”</p><p>“Oh, Handler’s office?” Five interrupts. “Well that’s not ideal but thank you for your help. Have a good day ma’am.”</p><p>And then Five turns on his heel, grabbing a jelly donut from the tray before departing the mess hall. Agnes watches him go with a confused frown, thinking <em> kids sure are strange nowadays, </em> as the smell of burning pancakes fills the air. </p><p> </p><p>Vanya didn’t get much sleep that night either, in fact she spent several hours silently staring at the slats of the bunk above her. <em> Sissy’s </em> bunk, where <em> Sissy </em>is fast asleep, shifting just slightly every few hours and making quiet, content noises. </p><p>She took her medication before bed, but this strange nervous energy sticks in her gut. </p><p><em> She has a horse, </em> Vanya thinks. She wonders if Sissy lives on a quaint little farm in Dallas, with a barn and a stable and a rolling pasture of grass and flowers for Applejack. <em> She thinks the violin is cool. </em> Vanya wonders if Sissy would like to hear her play, sitting in a field of prairie flowers while Applejack gallops through the meadow. She wishes she mastered the <em> sul tasto </em> in that difficult sonata she’s learning, so she could show Sissy how pretty it is. She wishes she had brought her violin.</p><p>“Vanya…?” a little voice whispers beside her, just as she was starting to drift off.</p><p>“Hm?” the teen looks over with blurry vision in the early twilight. “What is it?”</p><p>One of the campers, a little girl named Kelsie if Vanya remembers right. She’s from Connecticut and has two American Girl Dolls at home. But right now she looks sleepy and tense, crossing her legs and bouncing slightly in place- <em> oh. </em></p><p>“Yeah, c’mon,” Vanya whispers and gets out of bed, tiptoeing as they leave the cabin. She leads the little girl down the dirt path to the bathrooms. </p><p>It is kind of dark, and if you’re only eight all these paths and cabins could start to look the same. Vanya’s just glad that Kelsie didn’t go on her own and get lost. And no-one’s ever asked for Vanya’s help before. </p><p>She’s <em> Number Seven. </em>She can’t do anything.  </p><p>Vanya sits outside communal shower stalls while the little girl does her business, watching the sun just begin to rise over the mountain ridge. It’s so quiet out here. </p><p>Soon she is leading a sleepy kid back to their cabin, trying not to wake anyone as they creep back in. Kelsie falls right back asleep as soon as she gets in her bunk, but Vanya still checks to make sure everyone is settled and accounted for before she turns back to her bunk. </p><p>But Sissy is there, sitting up on the top bunk and looking at her. The early sunlight streams in from behind and makes the blonde tangles in her hair glow. </p><p>“G’mornin’ Vanya,” she says softly, drowsiness making her accent even thicker. </p><p>“<em> Hi,” </em> Vanya mumbles, fidgeting in her pajama pants and slipped-on sneakers. </p><p>Sissy rubs her eyes and stretches, and then says “Get som’ore sleep, I’ll wake the girls up in a lil’ bit.”</p><p>When Vanya crawls into her bunk, sleep comes easy. </p><p> </p><p>Five ascends the stairs to Handler’s office, the single-minded goal of coffee and a splitting headache driving him forward. </p><p>The office is empty and quiet, and still as cluttered as yesterday. In the far corner of the room is a door that is just barely cracked, and a stream of cigarette smoke wafts out. This would be an opportune time to snoop, especially to find that non-disclosure contract he’s so curious about, but there’s no time for that now. The coffee maker sits near the large window, beside a water heater and an assortment of cookie tins and tea varieties. It looks like a grandma’s doomsday stash. </p><p>Five almost teleports over, but then reminds himself not to. He’s trying to keep a low profile here, especially in the vicinity of the headmistress. So he <em> calmly </em>runs across the room and starts making a pot of coffee, hands shaking as he loads in the grounds and foot tapping impatiently as the machine starts to hiss. </p><p>The sweet scent of fresh coffee is just starting to waft through the room when she appears through the door.</p><p>“Oh help yourself why don’t you,” Ms. Handler says, sarcasm evident. </p><p>Five glances back to see her in satin pajamas and a fluffy robe, looking very upset to see be up so early, and then the teen turns back to anxiously watch coffee stream into the pot. </p><p>“You said morning,” Five says. “And I won’t be a very good errand boy without coffee.”</p><p>The older woman huffs in annoyance but doesn’t argue, flopping down in her desk chair and stubbing out her cigarette. </p><p>The coffee maker sputters with the last few drips, and then Five grabs a mug off the window sill. He pours himself a generous cup, and then pours one for her as well. He might be an asshole but he has manners. </p><p>“Well aren’t you a dear,” She says as he hands it to her.</p><p>Five takes a long drink of coffee, not caring that it’s scalding hot in his throat, and says “If you want cream and sugar, you’re on your own.”</p><p>She chuckles in a patronizing way as she takes a sip. Five had just grabbed whichever mugs were closest. Hers has a kitschy image of a goldfish on it, and his has “World’s Best Mum” printed on the side. When he finishes his mug, the delightful tingle of caffeine entering his bloodstream, Five pours himself another. </p><p>“So, you said report to you. And I’m here.”</p><p>Ms. Handler smirks over the rim of her coffee mug.</p><p> </p><p>Luther wakes with a start, there’s someone yelling, and a hard thump against the floor, and more yelling. <em> It must be Dad. </em> He sits up too quickly in his bunk and his forehead smacks hard against the low ceiling. It makes his teeth rattle and lights sparkle behind his eyelids, and someone keeps yelling and <em> it’s getting closer- </em></p><p>“All of y-you shu-shut the fuck up!” </p><p><em> Oh, that’s Diego. Diego wouldn’t say that to Dad, </em> Luther thinks. <em> At least, not while Dad’s around.  </em></p><p>He rubs his forehead and blinks his eyes open to see he is up in a bunk bed, with a pair of 12 year olds roughhousing on the floor while a haggard looking Diego tries to separate them.  </p><p>
  <em> Oh right, camp.  </em>
</p><p>Two of the kids, Kyle and Tyler maybe, are playing a violent game of keep-away with someone’s toothbrush, and the other boys are egging them on. </p><p>“Look who d-d-decided to wake up,” Diego mumbles, easily dodging a wayward foot as he drags one of the boys away. He looks like he’s half a second away from pulling a knife on these kids. </p><p>Luther chooses to ignore the dig and springs into action, jumping a bit too forcefully out of bed and making the floor tremble with force. It certainly gets everyone’s attention though. </p><p>“Alright campers,” Luther starts, his <em> leader </em> voice booming around the cabin. “From here on out we are a team, and I’m in charge-”</p><p>“H-Hey!-”</p><p>“<em> And </em> Diego is second in command, so you guys have to listen to us. Now everyone quit messing around, take a shower, get dressed, and report to the mess hall in 15 minutes,” Luther finishes, feeling quite proud of his leadership skills.</p><p>Until some of the boys snort at him and the two on the floor start fighting again. </p><p>“Jeez Luther, that lame crap d-doesn’t even wor-work at home,” Diego rolls his eyes, embarrassed to be even pseudo-related to such an uptight loser. “Will you g-give me a hand already?” he says, resisting every urge in him to stab Kyle in the kidney. </p><p>Luther isn’t happy to be ignored by his charges, and even less so to be disrespected by Diego. He’s going to be the leader one way or another. So the tall teenager comes over and sweeps both flailing boys off the floor, easily throwing both onto his shoulders. The two try to escape, after a shocked second of being airborne, but Luther has an infallible grip on them. </p><p>The rest of the kids are silenced by the impressive show of strength, and Diego warily slips a hidden knife back into his sleeve. <em> Why does Luther get to show off his power, but I can’t because it’s “too violent” and “there’s blood everywhere”?  </em></p><p>Luther turns to the remaining group, a tight, warning smile on his face. </p><p>“Shower. Clothes. 15 minutes. Got it?” </p><p>The campers rush to comply as he carries the two troublemakers toward the showers. Diego follows behind, making sure the stragglers don’t try to make a break for it. Maybe Luther’s leader voice is useful sometimes, especially about this shower thing. These kids have been here less than 24 hours and already the cabin smells like B.O. and preteen hormones. </p><p> </p><p>At breakfast Allison sees Luther and Diego across the mess hall, trying to corral their campers to sit at one table and <em> stop throwing food at each other, you just got clean. </em>She waves and sends a sympathetic smile to Luther, and it looks like it makes his day a little better. </p><p>Her own group is being much more well-behaved, in the way that they actually sit and eat like normal people and not zoo animals. </p><p>But <em> God </em>, the constant talking is driving her up the wall.</p><p>Not for a second has there been a reprieve in the sound of preteen girls gossiping and giggling and bickering. All night she heard the girls whispering, until Allison almost rumored them to sleep. But that would be bad, Jill was there, and the girls might remember, and <em> then everyone will know.  </em></p><p>So Allison woke up that morning grumpy and stressed, trying to tame her hair while all the girls took up the mirror space in the bathroom. The only twelve year old girl Allison has ever know was herself and Vanya, and they never talked for four-hours straight about Jesse McCartney and purple eyeshadow.  </p><p>And Jill must be the saint of patience, or partially deaf, because she just seems to ignore the girls so easily. Even now, she’s reading her book at the table while she picks at her plate of pancakes. </p><p>Breakfast will end in a few minutes and Allison will have to take the girls out to play volleyball or something. Basically all the campers get to run around and do activities while she is assigned to stay by the court and make sure the kids “play fair” and “don’t kill each other”. </p><p>Cha-Cha had given out the assignments this morning, thankfully without the megaphone. Jill will be at the hiking trail. </p><p>Toward the back of the room she sees Five skulking around, drinking a cup off coffee and slipping out of the building. She thinks about going to see what he’s up to, but then Hazel announces that breakfast is over and the campers are dismissed, sending a mob of children running towards the campground. Allison moves to follow with very little enthusiasm.</p><p>As she stands Jill closes her book and tucks it away in her satchel, and Allison just catches the title. </p><p>“<em>Tale of Two Cities? </em>I think my brother read that,” she comments off-handedly. </p><p>“Oh?” Jill looks up through her thick glasses.</p><p>“I mean- My foster brother,” Allison corrects herself quickly. “He reads a lot, you should meet him. He’s right over-”</p><p>Her eyes scan over the room for Ben, but she can’t find him.</p><p>“HURRY UP COUNSELORS, WE DON’T HAVE ALL DAY.”</p><p>Cha-Cha must have gotten her megaphone back.</p><p>“Well, maybe I’ll see him around,” Jill says as they rush out of the mess hall. </p><p> </p><p>“Klaus what are we doing?” Ben asks, crouching in a bush with his brother, not really expecting a rational answer. </p><p>“Have you even been listening to me?” Klaus says exasperated, using Ben’s binoculars to look towards the lake. </p><p>Ben got assigned to lead bird watching, with a pair of cheap binoculars and an outdated fieldbook. <em> And </em> he should probably go start doing <em> that, </em>if Klaus hadn’t dragged him off to spy on someone. Well, bird watching probably isn’t the most popular activity at a summer camp anyway.  </p><p>“Yeah, last night you got too high and fell off the roof right in front of some guy,” Ben snarks back. “And now you are <em> stalking him- </em>” </p><p>“I am NOT stalking him, we’re doing recon,” Klaus whisper-yells at him. “And he’s not just <em> some guy, </em> his name is Dave and he looks like an <em> angel </em> and he has a really cute smile and <em> really </em> thick arms and <em> he’s a lifeguard, Ben look!” </em></p><p>Klaus shoves the binoculars into his face and points them toward the dock of the lake, where Ben can see a teenager in a lifeguard shirt, helping campers into lifevests and onto kayaks. </p><p>“O-Kay, he looks like a normal person,” Ben says, and Klaus scoffs at his poor taste. “Why does it matter that he’s a lifeguard?”</p><p>“Oh God, really Ben?” Klaus says, sounding very put upon. “Picture this: A hot, hunky lifeguard sees me, a cute goth twink as I fall into the lake and <em> oh gosh, I can’t swim-” </em> </p><p>“But you can swim,” Ben reminds him. Dad had thrown them into a pool when they were five and waited until they stopped thrashing. </p><p>“Shhhh- so he jump in to save me, and then he takes me in his arms and-”</p><p> “I want to stop picturing this.”</p><p>Klaus just rolls his eyes, content in his fantasy. Ben desperately wishes he was birdwatching right now. </p><p>“Okay, wish me luck,” Klaus says finally, tossing the binoculars back at Ben and stepping out of the bush. He cut his counselor T-shirt into a crop top this morning, showing off the pale plain of his stomach, and paired it with a tight pair of denim shorts that don’t leave much to the imagination.  </p><p>“What?-” Ben says, just realizing that Klaus is walking towards the dock. </p><p><em> Oh no, </em> Ben can’t bear to watch this go down. <em> But on second thought </em>, he holds up his binoculars to watch this shit show. </p><p>Klaus walks casually across the dock, passing the line of impatient campers waiting to go kayaking. Dave is distracted as he helps some little girls into an unsteady boat, making sure both their lifevests are secured properly before sending them off. </p><p>“Hey Klaus,” calls some voices from the lake, and the teen looks up to see a pair of boys from his cabin rowing towards the dock.</p><p>Dave also hears them, looking up just in time to see Klaus lean out at the edge of the dock.</p><p>“Hi guys,” Klaus waves at them, like a not-suspicious camp counselor would. “Be careful out there and- OH NO-” and then he tips himself forward and falls face-first into the lake. </p><p>Only when he’s submerged in it does he realize how murky this water is, and <em> ughh </em> some rushes up into his nose and into his throat. Every instinct in him tells him to kick his feet and rise to the surface, but he’s <em> supposed to be fake drowning here, </em> so he can’t start swimming. He planned this to be more like him splashing around, crying out <em> help me </em> and <em> I can’t swim </em> like a damsel in distress. But then something slimy touches his leg and he starts thrashing around and <em> swallows more water, oh fuck- </em></p><p>And then someone descends into the water and appears beside him, arms wrapping around his waist and Klaus realizes that it’s a person, pulling him upwards. Like some kind of majestic water-angel (how long was Klaus down there?) Dave pulls him to the surface and holds his shaking body to his chest.</p><p>And Klaus, very elegantly, starts coughing up gross lake water.   </p><p>“I’m starting to worry you did hit your head last night,” Dave says, easily treading water as he holds Klaus through the retching. </p><p>“No, ‘m just clumsy,” Klaus mumbles miserably, face hot with embarrassment and lack-of oxygen. “And I can’t swim.”</p><p>That line sounded so much more coy and alluring in his head, especially because he didn’t imagine moss being stuck in his throat. <em> I really fucked this one up. </em></p><p>But Dave just smiles, blue eyes sparkling in the sunlight. </p><p>“Well, good thing I was here,” he mumbles, like he didn’t mean to say it out loud.</p><p>“Y-yeah,” Klaus says, finally catching his breath. “My hero.”</p><p>Now both their faces are red.</p><p>A couple kids on the dock start complaining about having to wait. </p><p>“Oh, damn uh- lemme get you out of here,” Dave says quickly, and Klaus is ready to kill some preteens for ruining the moment. Until Dave pulls him flush to his strong chest, one arm tight around Klaus’ bare waist, and starts swimming, then Klaus is very happy. </p><p>Dave heaves them both up onto the dock at once, giving Klaus a up-close view of those teenage muscles flexing. <em> God, </em>if these shorts weren’t so tight and that water so cold, Klaus would be so hard right now. They sit on the edge of the dock for a moment, legs dangling down in the water as the kids behind them get antsy. </p><p>Dave rubs his back as Klaus coughs up the last few dregs of water in his lungs, and he might be being a little too dramatic about it. </p><p>“You sure you’re okay?” Dave asks, trying to get him to breathe slow, even breaths.</p><p>“I guess, but you might have to give me mouth-to-mouth,” Klaus says, fluttering his eyelashes. </p><p><em> Oh wait, </em>his eyeliner and mascara is probably running all over his face now. He probably looks like a wet dumpster-fire. </p><p>But Dave just gets redder in the face, stuttering out some confused noise and looking downwards nervously. His hand is still on Klaus’ back though, touch warm and solid through his wet t-shirt.</p><p>“Hurry up!”</p><p>“Yeah, c’mon!”</p><p>Klaus is going to kill those fucking kids. </p><p>“Um- I’ve got to get back to,” Dave says, still too flushed to blame it on the hot weather. </p><p>“Yeah, totally,” Klaus says, letting Dave help him stand. Water is puddling around their feet, their clothes and hair still soaking wet. He moves to leave, needing a long shower and time to plan a better attempt to seduce the man of his dreams.</p><p>“Wait-” the lifeguard reaches out and grabs Klaus’ hand. The move startles them both, but neither teen moves to let go. “I- uh, teach swim lessons,” Dave says, struggling like the words are escaping him. “On fridays, before dinner.”</p><p>Klaus just nods, because 90% of his brain power is focused on Dave’s grip on his hand. </p><p>“If you wanna come by, I mean- it could just be us- like one-on-one. For lessons, I mean. Swimming lessons-”</p><p>“I’ll be there,” Klaus says, trying not to giggle as Dave gets so flustered. </p><p>“Okay! Cool, I mean- yeah. Friday, at like five? In the pool?”</p><p>“Sure- Wait did you say pool?” Klaus says, blinking is disbelief. </p><p>“Yeah, the pool building’s down the trail by the rockwall-”</p><p>Klaus can’t fucking believe it. <em> I jumped into that nasty ass water, </em> he thinks <em> , and there’s a fucking pool?! I could have fake-drowned in a pool so much better.  </em></p><p>From a safe distance, Ben is laughing at him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Day 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h3>Day 5</h3><p>
  <span>Five storms into the mess hall with a purpose, guzzling his second cup of coffee as he snatches all of his siblings by their wrists and drags them towards an unoccupied table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Team meeting. Now. C’mon, I don’t have all day, hey </span>
  <em>
    <span>get back here.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I want breakfast-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t call team meetings-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve got to sit with my campers-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sit down and </span>
  <em>
    <span>shut up,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Five hisses at them, and they mostly comply with a little grumbling. “We don’t have much time,” he says, eyes scanning the room for anyone listening. “Have any of you noticed anything… </span>
  <em>
    <span>suspicious?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The other six siblings stared at him for a moment, awkward silence between them as the mess hall bustled. Five felt his left eye twitch slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Five, have you been sleeping-?” Vanya says softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not important right now,” Five dismissed, taking another sip of coffee. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Hargreeves kids glanced amongst themselves, mumbling and shrugging as they confirmed that </span>
  <em>
    <span>“everything seems pretty normal Five-”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Exactly!” he slams his mug down on the table. “I have combed this place from top to bottom doing stupid tasks for </span>
  <em>
    <span>that woman </span>
  </em>
  <span>and I have found nothing! No money laundering, no human trafficking, no genetic experiments, not even tax fraud!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And your point is?” Allison asks, tapping her nails on the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well then </span>
  <em>
    <span>something </span>
  </em>
  <span>must be going on!” every inch of Five’s little body buzzing with energy. “No place is this normal, especially not places we go!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You c-called a mee-eeting for this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If they run out of waffles before I get any, I’ll never forgive you Five.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Five, I think this is just a regular camp.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re suspicious because there’s nothing to be suspicious about?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Are you EVEN LISTENING TO ME!?” Five shouts a bit too loud at his siblings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, okay,” Luther says, trying to quiet everyone down. Campers and other counselors are starting to stare at them. “Look, we shouldn’t be disobeying dad-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pfft-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“S-suck up-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>But</span>
  </em>
  <span>, we’re already here,” Luther says, dropping his voice low like their father might overhear from across the globe. “And there’s nothing going on here, so all we can do is lay low, and wait until the end of the camp.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The smallest brother looks like he’s going to pop a blood vessel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What!? </span>
  <em>
    <span>We have to get out of here-</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can’t leave yet,” Klaus pipes up, rolling a joint on the table. “I’ve got </span>
  <em>
    <span>stuff </span>
  </em>
  <span>going on,” he says with a vague wave of his hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s has to go embarrass himself in front of the lifeguard again-” Ben says, until Klaus kicks him under the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Shhhh-!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Klaus hushes him and tucks the joint into his pocket. “Besides, this place is cool. No one knows us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is kinda nice to be normal,” Ben mumbles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And to meet new people,” Vanya says wistfully. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Allison agrees, before Five can launch into another tirade. “And we need people not to recognize us, </span>
  <em>
    <span>so no more team meetings</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have to get back to my cabin group,” Vanya mumbles, trying to slip off the bench. Finally she is included in the team and yet all she wants is to go back and sit with Sissy and their campers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ye-yeah, us too,” Diego can already see their campers throwing food at each other. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Our boys are the only one who knows how to behave,” Klaus gloats, as his and Ben’s cabin are sitting at their table and playing MTG while they eat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not like you’re ever around to help,” Ben shoves him. “And Diego do you have any extra shorts-?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What- what, are- how-” Five fumbles as his siblings start to disperse into the mess hall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good meeting Five,” Luther says and pats him on the back as he walks away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Unbelievable.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After breakfast Vanya waves goodbye to Sissy, who gets to go supervise the rock climbing wall, and heads off to her new job. Well, her new, new, new job.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vanya had been put into a few different counselor positions over the last few days, but every time the kids ended up bulldozing her into doing whatever they wanted. Her last job ended with a few kids climbing up a tree while playing capture the flag, and no matter what Vanya said they wouldn’t get down. Until they fell. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright Vanya,” Hazel says, leading her over to a shed tucked between the field and the hiking trails. His smile is positive but his tone is a little exasperated. “I think this will be a better fit for you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He opens the door to the shed, showing that it’s crammed full of extra sports equipment and random outdoor activities. Vanya steps inside with trepidation, finding it a bit musky and dim as the floor creaks under her. Inside is just big enough for someone to stand amongst the balls and rackets and nets. It’s just a bit smaller than her room at home. The dutch door splits open in the middle, leaving the top open and the bottom shutting at about her waist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So this is the equipment shed, for when the campers have rec time.” He says, handing her a clipboard. “Basically you just stay here, and if someone wants to check out something, you take their name and tell them to have it back by the end of the day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vanya glances down at the board, seeing a blank list to be filled out. It feels very much like when her father would have her record times for the other kids while they ran obstacle courses.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, uh- I’m sure this will go great for you,” Hazel says awkwardly, already heading back towards the main building. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um- okay, but-” Vanya murmurs standing alone in the tiny shed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, camp seems less fun. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When the fifth arrow whizzes by Diego’s cheek, about two inches away from his eye, Diego finally snaps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Al-r-right t-that’s enough!” he barks, seething through his stutter as he snatches a bow out of a kid’s hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He thought getting put in charge of the archery range was going to be cool, mostly because he’s trained with arrows since he was three years old (also with darts, spears, axes, boomerangs, and shuriken). Knives were obviously the best, but a bow and arrows were cool too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except all these kids are </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking idiots </span>
  </em>
  <span>who don’t know the first thing about aim and velocity and wind resistance and are just</span>
  <em>
    <span> flinging sharp objects wherever- </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>One of the kids rolls his eyes, ignoring the counselor’s outburst and pulling another arrow into the bowstring. Fast as lightning, Diego has an arrow slipping through his fingers, spiraling into the air and pinning the kid’s sleeve to a nearby tree. The kid is unharmed, because Diego isn’t an idiot and putting an arrow through someone’s wrist is for amateurs, but the kid drops his bow in shock, fear clearly written on his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All the other campers freeze, jaws falling open at the display, and then they erupt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Holy shit that was so cool!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How’d you do that?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you show us? Do it again!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do it again- Me next!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diego is then swarmed by a dozen or so kids so quickly that he doesn’t have to think of the consequences of throwing an arrow at a minor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“UH- um- Okay,” He says, fumbling to grab another arrow. But as soon as he has it poised on the bowstring, the kids watch in hushed excitement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He aims at the farthest wooden target on the field, letting the arrow sail through the air perfectly into the bullseye. It’s no great accomplishment, he’s been hitting targets from 100 yards since he was a toddler, but the kids cheer like </span>
  <em>
    <span>it’s the coolest thing they’ve ever seen. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do it again!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So this time Diego pulls out the stops, shoots with his eyes closed, then backwards, then trickshots off another target, and all the arrows land in a perfect cluster in the bullseye.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The kids are in awe, trying to copy his stance and finally listening when he instructs them. And thankfully all the arrows are being shot </span>
  <em>
    <span>away from him</span>
  </em>
  <span> now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then Diego gets cocky.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You guys w-wanna see someth-thing really cool?” he says, pulling a knife out of his back pocket and throws it with a flick of his wrist. It slices through the air with a whistle, glinting in the sun until it stabs into the target with such force that the plywood cracks in half. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“WOAHHHH”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“IS THAT A FUCKING KNIFE?” Cha-Cha yells from across the field, so loud that it scares away the flock of sparrows in the trees.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben drops his binoculars to his lap with a sigh. Birdwatching really isn’t as thrilling as the field-guide makes it out to be. Most of the campers seem to agree, because Ben never has to watch more than one or two kids at a time before they run off to one of the more interesting activities. Usually it’s just Ben sitting on the outskirts of camp, looking for a quiet place where birds might be. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sometimes Agnes, the lady from the mess hall, will stop by on her break. She’s been a “tweeter” since she was Ben’s age, apparently. She’s a nice old lady, but then Hazel will come over and flirt with her, and Ben has to awkwardly inch away and try not to cringe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>From where he is now, up on a hill on the far side of the lake, he can see the whole camp through his binoculars. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The field is to the east, where he spies Diego at the archery range showing off his knives to children, and Cha-Cha coming over to yell at him about it. Near there is Luther trying to rangle campers into a fair game of touch football (they keep tackling each other though), and Allison rubbing her temples while preteen girls swarm her on the volleyball court.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Directly south he can see the main building at the center of all the cabins. There he knows Klaus has a mess hall table covered in craft supplies, teaching a bunch of little kids how to make lanyards. Already their cabin is decorated with shitty art projects and half-finished daisy chains, because Klaus doesn't have the heart to throw them away. And sometimes he can see Five dart in and out of the main building, usually drinking a cup of coffee before he slinks off into the shadows. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He saw Vanya too, earlier today. She was walking up with Hazel through the field and toward the hiking trails, but now he can’t find her. Maybe she’s near that shabby looking shed toward the edge of camp, but he’s not sure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s strange being able to see his siblings like this, at a distance but also up-close. Unable to talk to them as he watches them go about their day. Especially with no campers around, it’s kind of isolating. He scans his binoculars over the treeline, looking for literally anything more interesting than the flock of gulls around the lake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then he sees her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a girl on one of the benches beside the forest trails, where a group of kids are filtering in for the next hike. She sits hunched over a book in her lap, glasses slipping down her nose as she tucks a frizzy curl behind her ear. The sun is gleaming off her dark skin, making her glow amongst the dark green forest, looking so quiet and serene beside the gaggle of pushy campers.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a moment she looks up and does a headcount of all the kids, and then she says something, but Ben’s too far away to hear. She earmarks her page and stands, tucking the book underneath her arm as she pairs the kids up and starts leading them up the trail. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As she turns, Ben can just barely recognize the cover of her book.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A Tale of Two Cities</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a weird, twisty feeling in Ben’s stomach, and it’s not his tentacles. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bennnnuh,” Klaus whines. “What should I wear?” he asks, holding up a tie-dye halter top and a lacey skirt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, a swimsuit?” Ben says incredulously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh shit you right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus had shut down the craft table early today and went to drag Ben away from staring through his binoculars at the hiking counselors like a creeper. Now they sit in their empty cabin while Klaus smokes a joint and tosses clothes around the room, trying to get ready for </span>
  <em>
    <span>swim lessons.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>And five o’clock is approaching frighteningly quickly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I don’t have a sexy swimsuit,” Klaus laments, pulling out the boring black swim trunks from academy training. All the brothers have them, except Ben, who left his on the bus. “Do you think he’ll notice if…” Klaus mumbles suggestively. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you’re naked?” Ben sputters. “Yeah, I think he’ll notice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In a good way though, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Klaus.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah yeah yeah, it does seem a bit forward for a first date,” the teenage necromancer finally admits, kicking off his jeans to slip on his swim trunks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not a date, he’s teaching you to swim,” Ben reminds him, averting his eyes while Klaus changes. “Which, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you already know how to do.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is to a date! He had </span>
  <em>
    <span>the vibes,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Klaus says as he decides on a grey v-neck shirt, the one that is almost see-through and cut down to his chest. It will look even better coming off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know what that means.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You will when you’re older,” Klaus says, fluttering his eyelashes at his brother. “Now let me focus, I have put on eyeliner.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t wear makeup in the pool, you’ll look like the girl from The Ring,” Ben says, his eyes drifting over to his favorite book. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw shit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A little while later Klaus is rushing toward the pool building, looking much less cute than he wanted to, and having spent too much time doing his hair in to an artful, sex-tossled mess. Now he’s sure it just looks like a regular mess. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But sacrifices must be made in order to get hunky lifeguards shirtless and alone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he approaches the door a few kids of various ages are leaving, with their hair still wet and clothes damp, probably heading off to the field for the last hour of free-time. Klaus waits until they are long-gone before slipping into the building, chewing his thumb nail with a passive sort of anxiety. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The air inside smells like chlorine and is so humid and heavy that it makes his palms sweat. He follows the distant sound of splashing through a hall of lockers and shower stalls, until he rounds the corner to the pool. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The water glows a vibrant teal under the dim fluorescent lights, and then Dave appears from its depths, water dripping down his bare shoulders as he fishes stray floaties out of the pool.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus lingers on the edge of the doorway, unseen as he watches Dave sit on the edge of the pool and shake water out of his hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>(And he called Ben a creeper)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whoa…” he mumbles without really thinking, and it echoes through the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave looks up, surprised for a second, but then grinning in a way that makes Klaus feel like he’s having a heart attack. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey Klaus,” the lifeguard says, like he’s genuinely happy to see him. He stands and starts walking over, not even bothering to towel off. “I’m glad you came.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t say something stupid, don’t say something stupid, don’t say something stupid-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>came </span>
  </em>
  <span>for you last night too- I MEAN,” Klaus stops himself, wishing he had one extra braincell to keep him from saying stupid shit. “It’s not everyday someone saves me from drowning,” he says, putting on his best flirting voice. “I couldn’t just stand you up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave thankfully misses his Freudian slip, and goes from confused to bashful when Klaus smirks at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I mean- I just want to make sure you’re safe,” Dave rubs the back of his neck, suddenly very aware that he’s sopping wet and almost naked right now. Not that this isn’t how he usually is when he’s by the pool, but with Klaus it feels different. “But uh- let’s get started.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever you say,” Klaus says, slowly pulling his t-shirt up off and tossing it to a bench. He thinks it was seductive, Dave’s face is pretty flushed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you ever tried swimming before?” Dave asks, trying to keep focused on lessons, because this is </span>
  <em>
    <span>his job </span>
  </em>
  <span>and he needs to take it seriously. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>(But giving private swim lessons to another counselor after hours is not </span>
  <em>
    <span>technically</span>
  </em>
  <span> part of his job)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope. I’m a swimming virgin,” Klaus lies as they walk over to the edge of the shallow end.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh- um, okay” Dave stutters, looking like he’s about to burst into flames. “Well let’s just start with the basics today. Like, uh- treading water and holding your breath.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave hops into the pool, the water only up to his waist, and offers a hand to Klaus to help him in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Be careful, don’t fall,” Dave teases, trying to distract from the tingles he feels when their hands touch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, that was just one time-” Klaus slides into the pool but doesn’t let go of Dave’s hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Twice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That one doesn’t count.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The banter comes easy as Dave leads him towards the deep end, somewhere between awkward flirting and nervous stutters. The water rises up to their necks and Klaus leans in closer, holding on to the other boy like he’s scared. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’ve got to make this convincing</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thinks as he grabs onto Dave’s bicep. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, take a deep breath,” the lifeguard says, settling a steady hand on Klaus’ lower back. “It’s easier to float when you’re relaxed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus feigns fear for another minute before falling into Dave’s space and letting himself breathe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other teenager leads him step by step into the deep-end, saying “Just kick your feet and push the water back and forth,” he demonstrates while Klaus leans on his shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just don’t let go,” Klaus says quietly, following along as Dave holds his waist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” Dave mumbles into the space between them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe Klaus has a skewed view, because Dad basically watched them drown until they started kicking, but he doubts that </span>
  <em>
    <span>normal </span>
  </em>
  <span>swim lessons are this hands-on. Like, literally hands-on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he likes Dave’s hands on him. They’re strong and solid around his waist, but gentle as they rub the dip of his back soothingly. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>This water isn’t cold enough, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Klaus thinks, trying not to imagine where else he wants Dave’s hands to be. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, you feelin’ okay?” Dave asks, after Klaus gets into a steady rhythm of treading water</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, this is good,” he would stay here all night if he could, drifting through the deep-end with Dave until their skin gets all wrinkly and the smell of chlorine sticks in his hair forever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You wanna try going down?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean going under!” Dave corrects himself, shoulders rigid and face bright red. “Go under. Like underwater. Like, hold your breath and- go down- I mean- down under the water-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Watching a hot guy combust in front of him is actually pretty cute, but Klaus has mercy on him and squeezes his bicep gently, saying “Dave, chill.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” he says with a big rush of air, averting his eyes to the water’s surface. He’s sure that Klaus must be creeped out by now, or laughing at him, but when he glances up Dave just sees dark green eyes and a teasing smirk looking back at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Pull yourself together Katz</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he tells himself, but can’t quite hear it over the buzzing in his ears. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Take me under,” Klaus says, suddenly leaning in much closer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We don’t have to, if you’re not ready-” Dave says, without really meaning it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I bet I can hold my breath longer than you,” he says, to lighten the mood a little bit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave laughs like he’s already in on the joke, the last bit of tension leaving his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, scared you’ll lose?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You just started treading.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m a fast learner.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus looks at him like it’s a dare. But also like they’re about to jump off a cliff.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, but tap my arm if you need to come up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you’ll rescue me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave taps a silent countdown against his side, and then both teens are taking a deep breath as he pulls them down a few feet underwater. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Water rushes up, filling in all the little gaps between their bodies. The water is hazy from chlorine, but they both keep their eyes open, looking at the way each other’s skin turns pale blue and their hair fans out into wild curls. A few seconds pass and it feels like the world isn’t turning, as a couple bubbles rise up from their mouths.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Klaus isn’t known for his impulse control.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Shoot your shot, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thinks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he swoops in fast and kisses Dave square on the mouth. It’s just a peck, but it makes the other boy flinch backward swallow a mouthful of water. He panics and kicks up toward the surface, dragging Klaus up with him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they crest Dave shudders through a few harsh breaths, blinking until he can see clearly. He’s still holding on to Klaus, but at an arm’s length this time, and Klaus really thinks he’s just royally fucked this up.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But he had the vibe! </span>
  </em>
  <span>He laments to himself, feeling a sharp, twisty ache in his gut that kind of makes him want to cry. He wants to cry and apologize but also run away and never talk to Dave again- </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That- that’s cheating,” Dave says with a gasp, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>he doesn’t look mad about it. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus feels his heart restart, laughing with relief as he says “Who said there were rules?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then Dave is looking at him like he’s just said something profound, like it’s some secret language, before he grabs Klaus and drags them back down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their eyes meet underwater, and this time Dave kisses him. He pulls Klaus to his chest, and then even closer still as their lips lock. Klaus slides his arms around his shoulders, angling their faces so their mouths can open and </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck it’s so good. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Dave’s tongue is in his mouth and </span>
  <em>
    <span>yeah </span>
  </em>
  <span>everything kinda tastes like pool water. Klaus doesn't care, it’s his new favorite flavor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave puts a hand on his cheek, just to lay there and run his thumb over the slope of his cheekbone. Klaus has never been kissed like this, he can barely remember drunken kisses at parties or in allies behind clubs, and it never felt like every cell in his body was on fire. It’s never felt like someone was stealing all the air from his chest and filling it with something </span>
  <em>
    <span>else. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Something warm and fluttering that makes him kind of lightheaded and makes vision go fuzzy and-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The lifeguard pulls them back up to the surface, and while Klaus would have happily died with his tongue down Dave’s throat, oxygen is nice too. They gasp and sputter for a moment, faces flushed from lack of air and making out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus kicks his feet and gets some feeling back in his limbs, finding his balance easily in the pool.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re swimming,” Dave says suddenly, just realizing that Klaus is treading water without any help.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus freezes, thinks about faking drowning again briefly, but knows that he’s been caught. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uhh, you’re a really good teacher?” he tries, water dripping down from his shaggy hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Dave, </span>
  <em>
    <span>like the angel he is, </span>
  </em>
  <span>just laughs like he’s endeared, swimming up to get his arms around Klaus again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I knew it,” he says, leaning in to steal another kiss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Klaus mumbles against his mouth, letting the lifeguard crowd him up against the pool wall and kiss him senseless again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please don’t try and </span>
  <em>
    <span>drown yourself again,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Dave says while kissing his way down the slope of his neck. “Or fall off your roof.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus gets him back with a bite on his pulse, saying “Hey, that time it was real.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then they are kissing again, kissing and laughing and making snarky comments while their hands slide across each other’s skin. It’s perfect, Klaus decides, but it’s bigger than perfect. It feels big and all-consuming but not scary. Like jumping off a cliff but knowing there’s something better at the bottom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“HEY! IS SOMEBODY IN THERE? THE POOL IS CLOSED AFTER 5 OCLOCK!” Cha-Cha’s voice booms through the building, making both teenagers jump apart. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They look at each other, bewildered and terrified for a frozen moment, until they hear footsteps coming down the hall. The teens scramble onto the edge of the pool, sopping wet and shaking as Dave grabs Klaus’ hand and pulls him toward the emergency exit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I HEAR YOU, STAY RIGHT THERE!” she says, just around the corner. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just me!” Dave says quickly, making the footsteps pause. “I’m just cleaning up, don’t worry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nods toward the exit, telling Klaus to escape before they get reamed by Cha-Cha. Klaus doesn’t want to leave, not without Dave, but then- </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dave?” this time it’s Hazel’s voice, coming closer. “I need to talk to you about next week’s schedule.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Tomorrow, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Dave mouths to Klaus and looks toward the door again. The other teen finally concedes, but not before stealing another kiss from the bewildered lifeguard. Then Klaus slips through the emergency exit and dashes away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just as the adults round the corner, Dave leans against one wall and tries to look casual.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, sure,” he shrugs, like his voice didn’t crack and he doesn’t have a hickey. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus throws himself into his cabin, still shirtless and dripping with pool water. He’s met with the shocked gaze of his campers. And Ben is there, looking disappointed but not surprised. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you guys know it’s rude to stare?” He snaps at the gawking 10 year olds, grabbing a towel from the floor and trying to dry off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He climbs into the bottom bunk, refusing to make eye contact with his brother as he huddles under the towel and tries to stop shaking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben leans over the side of the bunk bed and whispers “How’d it go?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus waves him away, face so red he's positively glowing. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>not to be dramatic but comments literally make me write 500% faster</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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